The Race About Race
The open Maryland Senate seat could go red or blue, but from Baltimore to Bethesda, the talk is black and white
Touring a community fair at Circle Terrace Apartments, an almost all-black housing project in this Baltimore suburb, U.S. Senate candidate Kweisi Mfume is greeted like a celebrity. The former NAACP chief and one-time chair of the Congressional Black Caucus cuts himself off midway through every introduction and says, "Oh, you already know who I am." Angela Miller, a 28-year-old single mother of two, attended community college on a grant from the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People. "I've been a fan since high school," she gushes. When Mfume walks back to his car at nightfall, a 21-year-old community college student chases him and begs for a photo.
It's the kind of support Mfume, who grew up in a similar housing project, is counting on to win his Democratic primary on September 12. Even his main primary opponent, Rep. Ben Cardin, who is white, expects Mfume to pick up as many as 9 in 10 African-American votes. In a state where blacks account for nearly 40 percent of the Democratic vote, that's a powerful base. But the fact that Cardin's campaign is comfortable with such an outcome suggests the racial forces shaping the contest are complex. Indeed, recent polls show that almost all the state's undecided voters are white, which means the onus may be on Mfume to prove his appeal outside the black community.
Whoever wins the primary--Cardin and Mfume are the front-runners in a field of 10--is expected to face Republican Michael Steele in November. Steele, now Maryland's lieutenant governor, is also black. A Cardin-Steele match-up could help the GOP peel away traditionally Democratic black votes. Polls suggest a Steele-Mfume contest, meanwhile, would likely see most blacks stay in the Democratic camp, while many whites would flock to Steele. "In a race between two African-Americans," says Wade Henderson of the Leadership Conference on Civil Rights, "whites could become the swing vote."
Relations between Maryland's Democratic establishment and its black community were strained even before the primary race got underway. In 2002, Democratic gubernatorial candidate Kathleen Kennedy Townsend declined to choose a black running mate. She lost to current Republican Gov. Bob Ehrlich, who ran with Steele. And when five-term Sen. Paul Sarbanes announced his retirement last year, influential Democrats like House Minority Whip Steny Hoyer threw their weight behind Cardin. "The message ... ," Mfume says, "is it doesn't matter if you worked hard and pulled your life back together ... you're not good enough."
Cardin, a bland but crafty 10-term congressman, has publicly refused to acknowledge the role of race in the primary, even as a Washington Post poll last month showed that more than 80 percent of his supporters are white. "People want to be judged by the content of their character and agenda," he says, quoting Martin Luther King Jr., "not the color of their skin." But Cardin has been criticized by some black supporters for not doing more to address Mfume's advantage among African-Americans.
Electable. Cardin has a financial edge, however, having raised $5 million to Mfume's $760,000, and he plans to hit the expensive Washington, D.C., television airways before the primary. It's unlikely Mfume can follow suit, making it difficult to reach undecided suburban whites. Cardin may also benefit by being seen as more electable. "If you have two candidates, one black and one white, whites see the black candidate as more liberal," says David Bositis, of the Joint Center for Political and Economic Studies. "In Maryland, candidates don't want to be seen as too liberal on issues benefiting African-Americans. It's still a very segregated state."
If Cardin wins the primary, Steele has made no secret that he will vie for black votes with an economic empowerment message. "Dr. King's mission was getting a seat at the lunch counter," he says. "I talk about owning the diner." Last spring, a study by the Democratic National Committee found that as many as 44 percent of black Marylanders would consider supporting Steele. But Bositis notes that black Republican candidates have yet to prove they can win black votes. Steele recently admitted he compared running as a Republican to wearing a "scarlet letter."
And if Mfume wins the primary? Steele has a message ready, though it's aimed more at white voters who polls suggest will be less inclined to support a black activist like Mfume. "Voters have to ask who's going to better serve them." he says. "[Someone] who represents all the people, or just one particular race?"
This story appears in the August 14, 2006 print edition of U.S. News & World Report.
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